While the rest of the world is just starting to deck the halls in December, the Philippines has been knee-deep in Christmas cheer since September. Yes, you read that right—September! But here’s where it gets even more fascinating: this isn’t just about a few early decorations; it’s a full-blown, months-long celebration that doesn’t wrap up until January. Take Via Arboleda, for instance, who recently stepped back to admire her six-foot tree, already sparkling in her living room—months before the rest of the world even thinks about tinsel. And she’s not alone. Even as Manila’s narra trees cling to their leaves, Filipinos everywhere are unpacking ornaments, stringing lights, and counting down the days to December 25 with unmatched enthusiasm.
But why so early? For Filipinos, Christmas isn’t just a day—it’s a season of abundance, family, and joy. As Arboleda, a 27-year-old advertising professional from Manila, puts it, ‘We believe the bigger the celebration, the better.’ And they’re not kidding. By September, shopping malls are transformed into winter wonderlands—minus the snow, of course, since December in Manila averages a balmy 28°C (82°F). The decorations are so over-the-top that they’ve earned their own term: Bongga—a word that perfectly captures the flamboyance, abundance, and spectacle of it all.
And this is the part most people miss: Christmas in the Philippines isn’t just about the glitz. It’s deeply rooted in family reunions, especially for a country where nearly 10% of the workforce is employed abroad. According to the International Labour Organization, these overseas workers send remittances that make up 9% of the country’s GDP. For many families, Christmas is the one time of year—or even the decade—when everyone comes together. ‘It’s a big deal,’ Arboleda explains. ‘We feast and celebrate until our pants won’t fit anymore.’
Speaking of feasting, the food is a highlight. Imagine a spread that includes caldereta (a hearty goat stew with potatoes, carrots, olives, and peas), Filipino spaghetti (a sweet twist on Italian Bolognese, topped with hot dogs), and bibingka (rice cakes served with salted egg). Dessert? Often a fruit salad drenched in condensed milk and cream. And let’s not forget the karaoke—because what’s a Filipino Christmas without a little singing? Even the aunts and uncles grab the mic after a drink, while the younger ones perform for the grandparents, who reward them with money in envelopes.
But here’s where it gets controversial: Is this months-long celebration a beautiful expression of culture and faith, or has it become too commercialized? Some argue that the elaborate mall displays and branded Christmas trees—like Tiffany & Co.’s elegant blue conifer or Surf detergent’s cheery pink creation—distract from the true meaning of the season. Others, like Michelle Neri, a 26-year-old tech analyst from California, see it as pure magic. Neri, who grew up in Manila, keeps her Christmas tree up year-round as a nod to her family’s tradition. ‘Christmas here can’t compare anywhere else,’ she says. ‘It’s like Disneyland.’
For Filipinos, Christmas is also deeply spiritual. With nearly 80% of the population identifying as Roman Catholic, according to the 2020 census, the season is steeped in religious tradition. Simbang Gabi, a nine-day series of pre-dawn masses beginning on December 16, culminates in a midnight Mass on Christmas Eve. ‘It’s usually the grandmas and grandpas who attend,’ Arboleda notes. Afterward, families indulge in unique treats like puto bumbong, a purple sticky rice dessert paired with grated coconut, muscovado sugar, and butter.
So, is the Philippines’ Christmas celebration too much, or just right? Does the commercial spectacle overshadow the spiritual significance, or do they coexist harmoniously? We’d love to hear your thoughts. One thing’s for sure: whether you’re in Manila or halfway around the world, there’s something undeniably special about a celebration that lasts four months and brings people together in such a big, bold way.
